


Made Whole

by Primarybufferpanel (ArwenLune)



Series: Ellipse [9]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Allies, Enemies to Friends, FINALLY THE COMFORT IS HERE, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Redemption, recklessly alternative bible interpretations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/Primarybufferpanel
Summary: She sat half turned around in the passenger seat as Dolls drove them along dark roads to the homestead. Bobo's face had been wiped clean, but his beard was still stained and crusted with blood. Even unconscious and drugged like this he didn't quite look relaxed, as if he was still braced for pain even now."I wasn't..." she said forlornly, watching him. "I wasn't expecting to like him so much. Is that weird?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With great thanks to Sanguine, who isn't even IN this fandom but was still willing to stuntread

He woke like he'd been underwater. Or in hell. All at once, gasping and coughing and then, immediately, choking on a pained moan. Lord, what—this was all _wrong_ , his entire body screamed with a strange sort of pain, both acute and slightly removed. His face felt strange and itchy, and his hand, when he wanted to bring it up to scratch at his beard, did something weirdly uncoordinated before it flopped down over the edge of whatever he was laying on.

Bobo liked to think he wasn't prone to panic, but the lack of control over his body sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. It was enough to burn through some of the fuzziness in his mind and send him stumbling to the ground, fighting his feet under him. Wherever this place was, it was mostly dark and strangely vague, like in a nightmare, and he needed to get the fuck out of there. He needed to get his ass to his nearest bolthole, or better yet the mine, so he could hole up until he was healed. Before whoever had put him here would return.

He managed to get to his feet, moving on pure instinct, and stifle a pained gasp as he bumped his shoulder against a wall.

There was a sound somewhere close by, muffled voices, and he moved along the wall until he grasped a doorknob, relief flooding him when it turned and opened to the outside.

It was night, and the air was freezing and strong with the scent of snow, but that didn't matter, it wasn't like he'd die of the cold, he could leave, he could get to the mine. Wherever it was. He growled when he realised that he couldn't see the stars; hell, he could barely see a light spot where the moon had to be. Fuck, that was going to make orienting himself hard, but he couldn't think about that now. Away came first.

* * *

 

The hospital had wanted to keep Bobo overnight, concerned with the strange, deep cracks on his back, cauterised at their deepest point but still bleeding at others. The road rash and the concussion were another concern. Wynonna hadn't thought Bobo waking up in a hospital would go well, even if somebody stayed with him - and she'd had no intention of leaving.

"We have no idea how he'll wake up," she'd pointed out to Xavier. "If he'll still have the.." she'd wiggled her fingers. "metal thing."

"Shit, that would be bad here," Xavier had agreed, looking around at all the things in a hospital that could be fucked up by a disoriented newly human former Revenant with the ability to manipulate metal. "Yeah okay, let's take him home."

He'd gotten Bobo, bandaged up and still deeply unconscious, released to them with strict instructions and a box of supplies for pain management and wound care. Wynonna had her arm in a sling. The X-rays had shown no damage, but it felt like the recoil when she'd shot Bulshar had been a hundred times stronger than normal and her entire arm was in agony. She'd taken some tylenol that she'd found in the car, but it wasn't even touching it so far.

She sat half turned around in the passenger seat as Dolls drove them along dark roads to the homestead. Bobo's face had been wiped clean, but his beard was still stained and crusted with blood. Even unconscious and drugged like this he didn't quite look relaxed, as if he was still braced for pain even now.

"I wasn't..." she said forlornly, watching him. "I wasn't expecting to _like_ him so much. Is that weird?"

"He's kind of hilarious," Xavier agreed, eyes on the road.

"Right? Takes a moment to click sometimes. Sneaky sense of humour."

Xavier chuckled in agreement, and she trailed off into silence for a while, trying to breathe away the squirmy sense of dread.

"Feel like I—" her voice sounded small, and she took a breath and tried again. "Feel like I broke something, today."

Gods, his _face_ , while Bulshar had had him. The quietly accepted devastation, as she'd said all those things. The wry little expression of 'well, I don't know what else I expected'. He'd thought this was probably going to happen, and he'd still willingly put himself into that position.

_Problem ain't remembering how much you love an Earp. Problem's that you ain't forgetting how they walk away from you, either_

Despite breaking the curse and killing Bulshar, she felt like she'd done worse than Wyatt.

Way, way worse.  

"Maybe you did break something," Xavier acknowledged, low and kind. She was glad he didn't deny it. She'd spent her whole life breaking things, and other people pretending those things were whole to comfort her had never helped her in any way.

He reached for her good hand, caressing her knuckles with his thumb. "Or maybe it depends on how you react after."

She was quiet.

"I know you..." he hesitated. "I know you didn't grow up believing that broken things can be fixed."

Wynonna huffed a wry breath. It was better than the sob that wanted to crawl up her throat. No, she hadn't. She'd been raised to walk away from her mistakes as far and as fast as possible, just as people had walked away from her.

"Do you think Bobo was hurt that Wyatt shot him?"

"I mean, well—" she started, then stopped again. _you ain't forgetting how they walk away from you_. "I think it was more—afterward."

Maybe she'd done worse than Wyatt, had wounded Bobo in a way that might hurt more than a gunshot wound, but she could still try to do better in the aftermath. Acknowledge the pain. Show him that she wasn't walking away.

"You want to set him up on the couch?" Xavier suggested gently. "We can leave the bedroom door open, hear him as soon as he starts to wake."

Wynonna had never really learned how to fix something. She was unspeakably grateful that Xavier seemed to understand.

"Yeah," she sighed, a little relieved. "Yeah, okay."

 

Wynonna startled awake from a sound in the living room, a cough and then a pained, stifled moan. It took her a moment to orient herself, where she was—the homestead, right, her own bed, with Xavier next to her— but specifically _when_ she was. The events of the day flooded back. Bulshar.

Holy shit, they'd _ended the curse_. Part of her had never really believed that it could be done.

There was another noise, and she pushed herself upright, hissing when her right arm screamed in protest. Oh shit, yeah, that was a thing.

Next to her Xavier was already moving, head tilted to listen to the sounds in the living room. He tossed a hoodie into her lap and pulled on a knit sweater.

"I'll go ahead," he said under his breath. "Painkiller's probably worn off."

She nodded and wrestled herself into the hoodie and shoved her feet into thick wool socks.

By the time she got into the living, useless right arm tucked into the hoodie pocket, the door to the porch was slightly ajar, letting in icy wind and Xavier's low pitched voice.

"Hey Bobo, are you okay? You got somewhere to be?"  

He sounded gentle, kind, and God, how could she ever have believed that this man was cold and unfeeling? _Shit, holy fuck, I love him, I love Xavier_ , it hit her, a bolt of realisation that refused to become alarm.

She eased through the doorway, not wanting to startle anybody, and bit back a curse. Bobo had unsteadily made his way down the porch steps, and was standing barefooted in the snow. He was wearing the pair of Xavier's jogging pants they'd put him in and no top, only bandages on his back and all along his shoulder and arm, and an expression of disoriented bewilderment. He looked so unlike the Bobo she knew that for a moment she wondered if he remembered anything of the past century at all. If this might not be Robert Svane.

Xavier had stepped into his boots before he went out, because he had also gone down the steps into the snow, coming around to in front of Bobo.

"I'm—where is...?" Bobo mumbled, frowning. "I need to go—everything feels... wrong, I don't..."

"Do you want to come sit until you figure it out?" Xavier suggested, glancing at Wynonna.

"Hey," she said, forcing her voice past the terrible memory of the last time Bobo would have heard her speak. "You're safe, I promise. We want to help you."

His wry huff of breath, a wordless 'sure', felt like a punch to the gut.

He was swaying though, and after another moment he seemed to decide that sitting was better than faceplanting into the snow. He stumbled the few paces back to the porch steps and sat down heavily.

"You must be in pain," Xavier said. "Do you want something to help with that?"

Bobo made a shrug, choked out a pained sound when the motion pulled at his wounds, and then bared his teeth in that familiar reckless shark grin.

"Sure. Why the fuck not."

While Xavier went back inside, Wynonna gingerly lowered herself to sit on the porch steps next to Bobo. He looked to her with something like surprised recognition, and she suddenly wondered if his eyesight had gone back to its pre-Revenant levels. No wonder he was disoriented.

The door opened again behind them, and she felt a blanket settle around her shoulders, looking up to give Xavier a grateful look. He dropped a second blanket by her side with a jerk of his chin toward Bobo. Yeah okay, the guy looked ghostly pale, his torso only partially covered with bandages, his feet bare. She needed to get him back inside, but in the meantime...

"Here," she said lightly, moving slowly as she spread out the blanket as best as she could with one arm, and dropped it around his shoulders.

He just blinked at her for a moment. Then he went back to staring a hole into the snow between his feet.

Wynonna cast about for something to say. What the fuck could even fix this? 'Sorry I betrayed your trust, it was for a good cause' ? Even if she could force the words out of her throat, they seemed vastly inadequate.

"Where'we?" Bobo managed, dragging cold air into his lungs with a pained gasp. Breathing deeply had to hurt, with the injuries to his back, but the cold air seemed to clear his mind a little.

"My enemies are made whole in my house," Wynonna quoted wryly. "And my allies. And my friends." She  couldn't seem to stop talking. "Or maybe 'made whole' means they stop being my enemies...? I don't know man, I never went to Sunday school."

When he just frowned, she chuckled and added, "You're at the Earp homestead. Bulshar is dead, the curse is ended, and you're human. That's why you feel like shit, dude. Healing is gonna take a while. Welcome back to humanity."

His only response was a dip of his chin, like he was trying to take in the concept and not quite managing. He seemed to sink in on himself a little, listing toward her until his shoulder leaned against hers.

She'd never seen him get close to anybody unless it was to intimidate them, make them uncomfortable. She acutely remembered that moment early on when he'd been collected out of the interrogation room by the Stone Witch, how he'd gotten up into her personal space, contemplating her thoughtfully from a handbreadth away.  This wasn't like that. This felt a little more like seeking comfort. Maybe even like forgiveness.

Then she felt him lean heavier against her and, oh. He was passing out. Damn it.

"Aww, c'mon, I thought we were having a moment here, dude," she nudged his shoulder with hers, and he grunted. "Let's get you back inside, huh?"

Xavier hauled him back inside with her assistance, and she saw that he'd been busy in the meantime, setting up a cot in the scant empty space in their bedroom.

"Thought it'd be…"

"Yeah, no, good thinking," she agreed. "I'd rather not repeat—" she waved a hand in the direction of the front door. "That."

They got Bobo settled on the cot, and Xavier gave him an shot while she packed a towel around his icy feet. She looked up to find Bobo watching them with glassy eyes.

"If anything's wrong, we're right here, okay?" Xavier told him, disposing of the needle and packing up the box of medical supplies.

"Yeah, no more icy outside adventures at least until it's light, please," Wynonna yawned. She sat down on the edge of the bed to pull off her socks, and managed to work the hoodie off without moving her arm.

"He really…" Bobo mumbled as she crawled under the covers, "r'lly... dead?"

"Like a movie studio threw a decent CGI budget at it," she confirmed sleepily. "Bullet to the forehead, dramatic screaming, arms pulling him down into a suddenly appearing fiery pit, the works."  

He hummed in acknowledgement. Xavier pulled her close, chafing his warm hands over her back to warm her, and she tucked her head under his chin, limbs growing heavy with contented sleep.  

"...Earp?" she heard when she was on the edge of drifting off.

"Mm?"

"....good work," he sighed, barely audible.

"You too."

 _'My enemies are made whole in my house'._ Xavier had said that it meant that in the end, they all became enemies. Wynonna listened to Bobo's slow, steady breathing, snuggled her face into Xavier's neck, and decided that she liked her own interpretation better.


	2. Epilogue

"So we'll see you in Oregon sometime in the first week of October, right?" Wynonna said, staying by the bike after the others had said goodbye."At Cape Flattery."

Bobo nodded while he switched his glasses for prescription motorcycle goggles. "Supposed to be a good time to see the fall colours."

"We're planning to drift down the coastline from there, if you wanna come with?" she offered, and it wasn't a shock, exactly, that she—that _they_ , she wouldn't have offered it without Dolls' agreement— would be up for roadtripping together for a spell, but it was still a pleasant surprise that his company would be welcomed.

"Yeah," he said, giving his bike a slow, satisfying rev. "Sounds good."

He smiled and roared off with a handwave, and for the first time that he could remember, the future felt wide open.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my tiny crowd of wonderful, faithful readers and reviewers! It's been a delight having you along this ride and getting to know you. For now I feel finished in this story arc. Once S3 drops though... who knows.


End file.
